I’ve been a sad excuse for being an upright being over the last summer. Things just seemed to fly south losing my therapy hours for the Bipolar, and PTSD. County wouldn’t fund any more hours. Kind of lost my grip on things for a while. I’m still swinging, and trying to make the best of it. To go with the manic compulsions. That was the dancing day in November. The Harvest Faire at the local herb farm. Love spending time there. They are family..but…they aren’t..but yes, to me..They Are Family. Exactly what they are supposed to be. It was a wonderful day and I just let go. Just let it go.
So some several months have passed and all I can do is count the mornings I wake up and get to have another chance to do more, or maybe to do better. I really love summer time and spending time outside, and this spring/summer I have just holed up and shut down. Having those county hours sent me into a panic attack and they shipped me off to the Crisis Center. Felt like jail.
Month after that I in the hospital with a hemoglobin of 4.5 They wondered how I walked into the emergency room. So there I count some more. Five days in intensive care getting lots of transfused blood. And two more days after that. Was weeks before I started making blood again and started to gain some strength. More days lost.
So I swing. The attitude shifts, the confusion, the sadness, just so overwhelming. Bipolar is no fun. Some days I can feel the weirdness and understand that I’m not reading the situation sensibly. Do some more counting. 1,2,3…
Some things feels a bit better these last few weeks. I’d like to get back on track here. Really slack. Not even reading. Been really hard to look at. Accept. Admit. Really look at. So I guess counting the days till I can feel it on here instead of out here. XX